A Practical Guide to Surviving Sabbaticals
by Le Penguin
Summary: (Mikleo/Sorey, Modern AU) Fresh out of university with doctorate in hand, Mikleo lands a professorship. The bad part: it's just an interim position; filling in while his uncle is on sabbatical. And he left behind more work than any mortal can manage. The good part: his teaching assistant is excellent, helpful, and has an ass that can neither be stopped nor contained.


"Professor! Can I have you just-"

"Professor, before you leave, will you-"

"I need you to sign this so I can-"

It had been a long, long day already, and there was still more of it left. Mikleo was starting to feel the strain with the crowd of students surrounding him outside of his office after class, and gave a tired, tight little smile.

"Just a minute while I put some things down in my office," Mikleo promised.

He had barely touched the doorknob when the door swung open, and Sorey sprang out, crackling with energy and bright like the sun itself. Mikleo felt ready to dry up like an old damp book at the light and warmth he radiated; all wrinkled and crackled and with ink in odd places. Sorey moved past him with practiced grace, holding an armload of thick essays and graded tests in his arms. His big, strong, arms. His big strong arms and broad chest and his abs, all of them, all of it squeezed tightly into a thin little university t-shirt. Mikleo now felt less like a damp book and more like the overworked, overtired, and undersexed professor that he was.

"Order up! Graded essays and tests, fresh from the oven!" Sorey chirped, beginning to pass out his handiwork to the surrounding students.

With the students distracted, Mikleo was able to breathe for a moment. He settled down at his desk, and sat back, watching Sorey at work for a long, comfortable moment. He needed to get some things put away, and to review his email before the department meeting at the top of the hour...but after a grueling day like this, with back-to-back classes and students hounding his steps for questions on coursework and labs all the way, Mikleo just needed to take a moment to himself; to sit back, relax, and look at Sorey's butt in his jeans.

Sorey was his TA (and his personal T&A, for that matter), and was an absolute godsend when it came to managing his undergrad and graduate classes both. Mikleo himself had only gotten this professorship fairly recently, right after he'd finished his doctorate thesis. He was the interim professor for Eastern Archaeology and Anthropology while the tenured professor was on sabbatical – this normally would be perfectly fine and dandy, and no cause for embarrassment or resentment. Thing was, the tenured professor was Mikleo's uncle Michael, and the idea that Mikleo had only gotten this job because of family connections chafed at him. He should feel grateful, no doubt, or honored. Not bitter at the idea that Uncle Michael had timed his leave to give him a handout. ("Sabbatical". Mikleo snorted at the idea. Uncle Michael just wanted an excuse to write another travel novel, and was probably out joyously rolling around in the mud outside of a faraway ancient temple right now. Mikleo could very well seethe with jealousy.)

Mikleo had inherited Uncle Michael's course load, his advisorships, his various research projects, apparently his petty grudge-matches with fellow faculty ("If Collbrande asks who took away his admin rights in the database," Uncle Michael said, in that quiet way of his. "You tell him it was me. You tell him it was me and he needs to stop fucking with my tag system."), but most importantly, he'd inherited his teaching assistant – a doctorate student named Sorey who seemed to single-handedly keep Uncle Michael's classes running smoothly. The students adored him, the faculty and staff adored him, and Mikleo, well. He was only human. Sorey was an immense help to Mikleo; he would have crashed and burned in the first month without him acting as a patient shepherd to the students, and essentially acting as Mikleo's personal secretary.

Sorey was only a few years younger, if that, than Mikleo. They shared common interests and passions. They worked well together, and Mikleo was very attracted to him indeed. It had taken less than an hour for Sorey to ask him out on a date after they first met; less than two for Mikleo to stop hemming and hawing about propriety and to accept.

They'd gone to dinner together that evening, and the next day, Mikleo woke up in Sorey's apartment to have breakfast with him as well.

They weren't official, or exclusive, or anything like that. Any time Mikleo considered the idea, he felt sick with dread at what would happen if the gossip came out...as if the gossip wasn't buzzing already. It could very well lose the both of them their jobs, and could potentially derail Sorey's doctorate track – Mikleo wasn't about to ruin Sorey's future just so he could have him to himself. He stole a quick little glance over at Sorey, seated at the corner of his office, while students peppered Mikleo with questions. Maybe, in a year or so, when Sorey had completed his thesis and Uncle Michael had wandered back through the university's gates...maybe then, Mikleo could entertain the possibility of dating Sorey.

For now, though, he was just stuck dreaming, wishing, and occasionally indulging in that plump, tight little ass of his.

The students finally trickled out, and Mikleo took off his reading glasses, sighing as he shook out his hair to brush and re-tie it before the department meeting. Before he could take the brush in his hand, Sorey snatched it up, and gave him a cheeky little grin.

"Trade you," he said in a singsong voice.

Mikleo tried to look stern with his hair a mess around his shoulders. He just wound up pouting instead, and slumped back in his chair.

"What did you want from the vending machines now?" asked Mikleo, flatly.

Sorey tsked and rolled his eyes, and twirled Mikleo around in his office chair so he wasn't facing him.

"You can't always just pay me off in M&Ms, you know," Sorey said. He began to run the brush through Mikleo's hair, slow and careful. (Emphasis on "careful". About the only time Mikleo had ever entertained a negative thought about him was when Sorey nearly yanked out a clump of his hair in his excitement at getting to brush it for the first time.) "You've gotta start mixing it up, or else I might have to start taking matters into my own hands."

"Oh?" asked Mikleo. "Should I start bringing in pints of ice cream to keep in the faculty fridge?"

Sorey appeared to consider that for a moment, but then took up his brushing again. "That'd only work if you got a mini-fridge in here. You know they never did catch that lunch thief in the faculty lounge."

Mikleo had his suspicions. Uncle Michael had an entire conspiracy corkboard, surveillance photos and red string and newspaper clippings and all, dedicated to the mystery when Mikleo first took over his office. It was currently shoved behind a bookshelf.

"Well then," Mikleo continued. "What were you thinking of?"

Sorey stopped brushing his hair, and swiveled him around in his chair again. He put a knee between Mikleo's thighs to spread them apart. He leaned down, and cupped Mikleo's cheek tenderly; gently brushing his thumb over the dark circles under his eyes before sliding that hand back and into his hair. He tilted Mikleo's chin up with his other hand, and leaned in. It was hard not to take the invitation to rub on Sorey's thigh, especially when the kiss deepened; especially when Sorey's eager little whines started to get more pleading, more insistent. Mikleo's hands found their way into Sorey's hair, and up and under that tight little shirt of his. Sorey's loud moan when Mikleo's fingers brushed over his nipples shocked Mikleo back to reality.

"We can't-" Mikleo started, and then broke off into a whimper when Sorey bit at his ear, moving down to do the same to his neck. "Not now. Not here."

Sorey went to his knees in front of Mikleo's chair, and rested his chin on Mikleo's thigh; gazing up at him with big pleading eyes. Mikleo's cock very nearly begged his brain to take Sorey up on the offer, department meeting be damned.

But alas, responsibility won out in the end. Mikleo stroked his hand through Sorey's hair, and tried not to let his heart ache too much at the way Sorey leaned into the touch, his eyes sliding shut in bliss. He leaned in to kiss Sorey's forehead, unable to help himself.

"I've got a department meeting in fifteen minutes," he murmured. "Stop by my place later and I'll make it up to you."

Sorey made a considering noise, and then dove in to steal another kiss from Mikleo. He grinned at him, sun-bright.

"Deal. But you owe me – I wanna suck you off in here sometime."

"Pass," Mikleo said strictly. "I'm not letting you blow me in my uncle's chair."

Sorey pouted a little, and mashed his cheek against Mikleo's thigh as he gazed up at him accusingly. "Spoilsport."

The department meeting seemed to take forever. Mikleo was unfortunately starting to understand some of his uncle's feuds – several faculty members were simply insufferable, and even the ones who weren't actively obnoxious didn't really give Mikleo much in the way of respect. Mikleo knew he was young; the ink was barely dried on his doctorate, and he wasn't even thirty yet. He didn't expect to command the same presence that his uncle did in meetings. (Though he was beginning to suspect his uncle's "presence" in these department meetings was akin to the presence of some sort of surly bridge goblin.) But damn it, he had a doctorate all the same, and he'd interviewed for and earned this position fair and square. He wasn't just some temp, there to babysit – he didn't get this far just because of who he was related to. He was going to prove himself, and soon they'd be begging him to take tenure. He was sure of it.

After the meeting, Mikleo had been dragged out for drinks at the nearby campus watering hole. He didn't want to turn down Professor Mayvin – he was one of Mikleo's only allies in the department, and was a pleasure to talk to besides. But he always went on so long. And on, and on, and on so long. By the time Mikleo managed to finally get on his way home, he was over three hours late, and the sun was beginning to set.

Mikleo sighed as he pulled into his parking spot and lurched up to his apartment building. Three more flights of stairs, and he'd be home free. Three more flights of stairs, and he'd be able to dive into the ice cream mochi he had squirreled away in his freezer, shotgun the whole box, and then pass out – ready to do it all over again the next day. He sighed and turned his key in the lock, creaking the door open.

The lights were on. Why were the lights on?

Heart pounding in his throat, Mikleo slowly crept into the main room from where the light bled. He relaxed minutely when he saw the culprit, then was hit by a wave of many emotions.

The first emotion was relief: it was Sorey. Of course it was Sorey; Mikleo finally remembered that he'd invited him over tonight.

The second emotion was guilt: he'd invited Sorey over and then completely forgot about him to go get wasted with Professor Mayvin. Even after Sorey had done so much for him today. Thank god Sorey still had a key from when he'd taken care of Mikleo's plants while he was at a conference, or else he would have been waiting for him outside for hours...if he even decided to stick around at all.

The third emotion was lust: Sorey was sprawled out on the couch stomach-down in a pair of thin pajama pants, reading. The gentle curve of his ass was clearly defined through the fabric, just as his tight t-shirt hugged the strong lines of his back. The back of the pajama pants had text that curved over Sorey's ass cheeks: "Property of Marlind University". Would they be so lucky. Those cheeks would be all Mikleo's, tonight.

Sorey had heard him come in, and beamed at Mikleo, clearly aware that Mikleo was ogling him. He shifted his legs on the couch to make his ass stick out a bit more.

"Welcome home," Sorey said, entirely sincere. "How was the meeting?"

"They still haven't figured out a way to get their admin rights back in the university's artifact and rare books database," Mikleo said. "Nor have they figured out how to fix their usernames. My uncle doesn't leave work half-done, I'll say that much."

The fact that Professor Collbrande had to do work in the database under the display name of "Fartorius Fartbrande" warmed a part of Mikleo's heart he didn't want to admit he had. They'd been pressuring Mikleo to "do something" about the issue, and while Mikleo probably could crack whatever coding black magic his uncle had used to enforce his curse, he frankly had more important things to do. Like organizing his journal collection. Or catching up on his Netflix documentary queue.

Or coming home to a gorgeous boy on his couch.

Sorey shook his head fondly and chuckled. "When he puts his mind to something, anyway. If he didn't leave his grading work half-done, I wouldn't have a job."

Mikleo knelt down next to the couch and laid his forehead against Sorey's shoulder; breathing in his scent, then exhaling it on a long sigh.

"I'm so sorry," Mikleo murmured. "I...Professor Mayvin dragged me out after the meeting, but that's no excuse for ditching you here."

Sorey made a soothing noise, and wrapped one warm, thick arm around Mikleo to pull him in close. Mikleo felt his eyes droop shut of their own accord, and he leaned into the hug as if clinging to a buoy in a storm.

"It's alright," Sorey assured him. "I have a key, remember? And I left some jammies here from last time. I needed some downtime to get my thesis work done, anyway. Plus I know how hard it is to say no to Professor Mayvin."

"If he'd even listen to the rejection in the first place," Mikleo griped. "He told me that story about the hang-gliding and the Tibetan monks again."

"That's a great story, though," Sorey pointed out.

"I know!" Mikleo said, frustrated. "All of his stories are great! And they all take three hours to tell! And one story leads into another, and another, and another..."

Sorey interrupted him with a kiss, and drew back with a cheeky little grin on his face.

"Don't worry," Sorey said. "It wouldn't be fair of me to deny a couple of old fogies their story time. Or to judge you for forgetting things in your old age."

Mikleo scowled, his cheeks and ears red from the sudden kiss.

"I'm not the one who hung around an empty apartment for four hours on the off-chance of getting laid tonight," Mikleo countered.

Sorey laughed aloud at that, and rolled onto his back on the couch, dragging Mikleo up and on top of him.

"You got me there," Sorey said. He snagged Mikleo's hair tie, and let his hair spill over his shoulders. He ran his fingers through it, sighing. "I really wanted to touch you. I wanted it so bad in your office, you don't even know."

"I could hazard a guess," Mikleo murmured. He spread his fingers across Sorey's pecs, and gave them an appreciative little squeeze. Mikleo was definitely an ass man, but he could appreciate a good rack when he saw one. "You're just too much sometimes. Did you do this to my uncle too, or am I just lucky?"

Sorey made a strange face, and Mikleo couldn't help but laugh.

"Uh, no," Sorey said. "He's not my type. You, though...god, the first time I saw you. I thought the art department had misplaced one of their marble statues."

Mikleo stopped kneading at Sorey's chest to shoot a glare at him. Sorey smiled at him beatifically.

"Go ahead and make me sleep on the couch tonight; I mean every word of it." Sorey brushed his fingers against the nape of Mikleo's neck, his lips parting minutely at the sight of Mikleo shivering at the touch. He continued to trace his finger along Mikleo's neck as he spoke, trailing it around and down to his collarbone. "Beautiful. Perfect, exquisite, flawless. Completely and utterly gorgeous. Shall I compare thee to an ancient ruin? Thou art just as lovely and marginally less deadly-"

"I have a word for you, Mr. Thesaurus," Mikleo said, trying to interrupt Sorey's teasing before he completed his metamorphosis into a tomato. "Callipygian. Turn over so I can see it."

Sorey grinned, gave him a quick peck on the lips, and flipped over onto his hands and knees; making the couch groan with the forceful motion. Mikleo was less concerned with his furniture than the gorgeous ass presented to him. Mikleo reached out to give it a reverent squeeze, and then a sharp swat. Sorey gave a pleased little yelp of surprise.

"That's for almost making me late to my meeting," Mikleo said, and smacked his booty again, watching the cheeks jiggle with the strike. Mikleo was reminded of an especially delicious flan. "And that's for the attempted defilement of my uncle's office chair."

Sorey leaned back, eagerly anticipating the next strike. Mikleo couldn't resist those green eyes even on the best of days. He directed his next strike at the sensitive spot where cheek curved into thigh, and thrilled at the needy tremor in Sorey's moan.

"That's for breaking and entering." Mikleo delivered a twin strike to the other thigh. "And for being so thirsty for cock that you waited around for four hours."

"You're welcome," Sorey cooed, wriggling his butt at him for more.

Mikleo traced up the column of Sorey's spine with his fingers, inching his shirt up with the motion. The little dimples above his butt were just too tantalizing. He pressed a kiss to the small of Sorey's back, smiling at the way Sorey whimpered and arched into his lips.

"I wonder what else you've done lately that requires some correction. If you were my student, I'd have no mercy on your papers."

"If I was your student," Sorey said, sweetly. "You'd be out a TA and be so buried under class coursework that you'd never see daylight again."

Sorey pushed his butt back, anticipating and very nearly begging for the next smack. Mikleo refused to give in. He pulled back, leaned back into the couch, and regarded Sorey with a measured stare. Sorey whimpered and wriggled his hips a bit more, trying to tempt him into giving him what he wanted.

"If I didn't know any better," Mikleo said mildly. "I might think you're enjoying this."

"More, please," Sorey whined. He cast a pitiful look over his shoulder; his lower lip pouted so ridiculously that Mikleo ached to bite it. " _Mikleo_."

"I could be convinced." Mikleo shifted his legs, spreading them in invitation. He gave Sorey a meaningful look, and spread his arms across the back of the couch. Waiting.

Sorey very nearly leapt at the invitation, and was on his knees on the floor in front of Mikleo in only a moment. He leaned in to nuzzle his face against Mikleo's hard cock through his trousers, pausing only to shuck his t-shirt in one fluid motion when Mikleo tugged on it meaningfully. Mikleo couldn't help but purr at the gorgeous tanned skin and lean muscle – all his to touch. He spread his fingers on those broad shoulders, holding Sorey close with one hand as the other unzipped his trousers and brought out his cock.

"Ah-ah," Mikleo scolded, holding Sorey back from diving in and swallowing his cock in one greedy gulp. "Slowly, now. I don't want you choking."

"I do," Sorey moaned in protest. His eyes fluttered shut as Mikleo teasingly rubbed the head of his cock on Sorey's lips; pulling it away whenever Sorey tried to taste it more. "I wanna choke on it. Please, Mikleo, please…"

Mikleo tried not to groan, but couldn't help but give in to Sorey a little. Just a little. He let Sorey have a taste of his cock; let it slide over Sorey's soft lips, over his tongue, into that hot, wet mouth of his. Sorey moaned as if he was about to come in those pajama pants of his, and leaned into it, sucking on Mikleo's cock as if starved for it. Mikleo let his head loll on the couch's back, and slid a hand into Sorey's hair – as both control and encouragement.

"Good, Sorey," Mikleo breathed out. "Your mouth feels so good on it. Amazing."

The green of Sorey's eyes was nearly eclipsed by his blown pupils, and the moan that rumbled from his chest at the stream of praise vibrated deliciously around Mikleo's cock. Mikleo was entranced, and traced the stretch of Sorey's lips around his cock with a curious finger. As if obeying a basic instinct to suck on anything offered to him, Sorey took that finger into his mouth too; caressing it with his tongue alongside Mikleo's cock.

" _Sorey_." Mikleo shoved at his shoulder, and Sorey made a desperate, almost despairing noise; staring up at Mikleo with pleading eyes as he took him in deeper. Gritting his teeth against the assault, Mikleo tugged on Sorey's hair firmly but gently, and Sorey broke off his cock with a gasp and a full-body shudder.

"Uh-uh. No," Mikleo said firmly, shoving Sorey back as he tried to dive in to his rightful spot again. "I'm going to go into the bedroom to get some lube and condoms. Does that sound good?"

Sorey appeared to be caught between two irreconcilable dreams: to keep sucking on Mikleo's cock, or to let that same cock fuck him stupid. (Mikleo would be down with Sorey fucking him stupid, too, but right now he really needed to do something about the issue of Sorey's ass.) Finally he came to a decision: he stood up, shoving his pajama pants down with the motion. He stood before Mikleo; gloriously bare and painfully hard.

"Yeah," Sorey breathed out. He slid a hand down his own chest, over his abs, down to curl around and stroke his own cock. "Really good."

Mikleo stood up and stilled the motion of Sorey's hand with gentle fingers on his wrist. He leaned in close to whisper in Sorey's ear. "What sounds good?"

Sorey whined, very nearly shaking with the effort to keep his hand still with Mikleo's breath on his neck.

"I want your cock in me," Sorey moaned. "Wanna get fucked; wanted it so bad all night."

"Oh?" Mikleo breathed. He scraped his teeth on Sorey's neck. "Were you thinking about taking my cock the whole time you were waiting for me here?"

Sorey made a desperate sound, and Mikleo's mercy finally won out. He took Sorey by the wrist and began to lead him into the bedroom.

"I was thinking about it the whole time, all afternoon, needed it so bad," Sorey babbled as if delirious with need. Mikleo shoved him down onto the bed, stripping himself without finesse and with a singular purpose. He joined him just a brief moment later with supplies; Sorey grabbed at him as if he'd been gone for weeks, spreading his legs and wrapping them tight around Mikleo's waist. "Please, Mikleo, put it in now, just, please-"

"Turn over," Mikleo simply said. His voice brokered no argument, and Sorey made none; simply flipped himself onto his stomach and presented that perfectly firm and tight ass of his for the taking (and the fucking, and the filling). Mikleo wet his fingers with lube, and traced a damp trail up the back of Sorey's thigh; giving a helpless little groan and chuckle when he felt Sorey's hole already wet and stretched.

"I was wondering why the lube was already out on the nightstand," Mikleo murmured. He slipped two, three fingers into Sorey. His cock ached at how greedily Sorey's body took them in, how Sorey arched back to fuck himself on them. "I swear, Sorey. You're just ridiculous sometimes."

" _Mikleo_." Sorey was whining with every movement of his hips; an edge of desperation evident. "C'mon, please, I'm ready for it, just put it in…"

Mikleo really couldn't argue with the point himself anymore. He tore open the condom packet with his teeth and rolled it on, and hoisted Sorey's hips up and back into position. It was a bit hard to manage since Sorey kept trying to shove his hips back blindly in hopes of a cock being there, but one hard smack to Sorey's backside distracted him enough to allow Mikleo to push the head of his cock into Sorey; slow and careful as he sank fully inside.

The noise Sorey made appeared to be an attempt at Mikleo's name, but it trailed off into incomprehensible moans and shouts as Mikleo began to fuck him the way he'd begged for. There would be time for something a little gentler later in the night – right now, Mikleo needed to fuck into him hard and fast, grinding into his sweet spots relentlessly until Sorey was sobbing for release.

Mikleo was close, himself, and wanted to feel Sorey come on his cock – feel him shiver around and squeeze down on him. Mikleo took a hand off Sorey's hips to reach around him; trailing it briefly down his chest before wrapping it around Sorey's cock to stroke him in time with his relentless pace. Sorey gasped and arched his back, every muscle in his body going stiff at once.

" _Mikleo!_ God, yes, Mikleo, yes-"

Mikleo felt Sorey's cum hot in his hand, and continued to stroke him as he rode the wave of his orgasm. With Sorey's blissed out face half-mashed into the pillow, Mikleo took him by the hips again, and made those last few thrusts he needed to be pushed over the edge himself.

Mikleo's thoughts swam back into focus after a long, comfortable moment, and he carefully pulled out of Sorey; tying off and tossing the condom in the bedside trashcan. Sorey didn't seem to come back to himself until Mikleo was gently wiping him down with a damp washcloth – and then wouldn't stop trying to kiss all over his face while he did so, which make Mikleo wish he'd just pass out again. Nonetheless, Mikleo tossed the washcloth into the laundry bin, and then turned them both to spoon on the bed. Sorey made a pleased little noise and scooted back to rest more comfortably in Mikleo's arms. Mikleo nuzzled his shoulder, and stroked careful fingers across Sorey's backside and thighs.

"You alright? I wasn't too rough, right?"

Sorey grabbed his hand to squeeze it, reassuringly.

"Nah. You were perfect, and amazing, and wonderful as always." Sorey brought Mikleo's fingers up to his lips to kiss. "Which reminds me, I have to finish reading you that poem I was composing about you. Shall I compare thee to an ancient ruin? Thou art just as lovely and marginally less deadly, and way more dead sexy-"

Mikleo stopped the impromptu poetry slam session with a pillow to the head.

"Shakespeare rolls in his grave."


End file.
